The Serpent Sea

by Martha Wells

  Moon pushed the outside door open for them. The sun was shining, the miasma that usually hung over the leviathan torn away when the creature had jolted into motion. The plaza and the surrounding walkways were empty, though somewhat protected from the rush of wind. The woman blinked at the daylight as if she had never expected to see it again. Moon said, “Will you be all right?”

  “It’s not far,” she said, automatically. Then she focused on him, her eyes intent. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged uneasily. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She nodded tightly, then turned away. He watched the little group walk away across the plaza and take a path toward the nearest cluster of towers.

  Moon went back inside, and helped Stone pull the door shut and lever the locks and bars into place again.

  As they came back out into the exhibit hall, Jade leapt down from the gallery. She caught Moon by the shoulders, her expression worried and preoccupied. “Moon, you should rest. We’ll need you when the groundlings are ready to talk. We can’t try to get to the harbor until after nightfall, anyway.”

  That was true. They needed to make a plan to reach the harbor and steal back Negal’s flying boat. Moon considered it, wavering back and forth, then thought, Why not? He might as well give in to his consort’s privilege to rest while everybody else was working. “All right.”

  Jade pointed him toward the back corridor of the tower. “Go back there. Flower is resting and Chime’s watching over her.”

  Moon found his way toward the back of the first floor of the tower, to what must be the servants’ and guards’ quarters. A short stair led up to a big common room. There were thin rugs, not nearly as nice as the ones upstairs, padded benches, and a few stray floor cushions. A couple of narrow corridors and several small rooms opened off it. He looked into the first room to see Flower lying on the bed with Chime sitting beside her. She was in groundling form, curled around a pillow with the seed tucked under her arm; she looked tiny and almost withered. “Is she all right?” Moon whispered. She looked terrible.

  Chime glanced up, his expression uneasy. “I don’t know. She’s just so tired. Rift is showing Root where the food is kept. I was going to try to get her to eat.”

  Without moving, Flower hissed, “Both of you, hush.”

  Moon hastily backed away. He went to one of the padded benches in the common room and sat down, then lay down for a moment to rest his eyes.

  He wasn’t aware of falling asleep, though he was dimly aware of the others coming and going through the room, or lying down to sleep on the floor. He smelled dried fish at one point, but was too tired to wake and look for his share. Then he woke abruptly, with Song leaning over him. She was in her groundling form, and her expression was anxious and a little frightened. “Moon. Flower says it’s time.”

  Moon blinked, having trouble dragging himself out of sleep. “Time for what?”

  Song seemed startled to be asked. “She’s dying.”

  That jolted him fully awake. He sat up, pushed to his feet, and followed Song into the bed chamber.

  Flower still lay on the bed, propped up on some cushions. Her eyes were closed, and her skin looked almost translucent under the vapor-light. Jade sat beside her, in her Arbora form, her spines twitching anxiously. Stone stood nearby, the seed absently tucked under one arm. Chime sat on the floor by the head of the bed, hunched in misery. The other warriors were gathered around in groundling form, all grim and sad.

  Jade glanced up as Moon came in. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Sorry. I would have sent for you sooner, but she wasn’t sure until just now.” She looked around, taking stock of who was here. “Root, Vine is guarding the outer door. Go take his place so he can have a chance to see her. Hurry.”

  As Root darted out of the room, Stone sat down on the bed. He touched Flower’s limp hand, but she didn’t stir.

  “What’s wrong?” Moon asked. Nobody seemed to be doing anything. “What happened to her?”

  Balm said softly, “Nothing. It’s her age, it’s caught up with her.”

  Moon couldn’t believe that they were just standing here. It had to be some stupid Raksuran custom, maybe because there was no other mentor to help her. Chime might have an ability to sense things about the leviathan and Ardan’s magic, but he couldn’t use mentor skills to heal anymore. Moon said, “Karsis is a healer. Let me get her.”

  With a trace of impatience, Jade said, “Moon, it’s no use. It’s Flower’s time.”

  Moon bit back his first angry response. He had to convince them that a groundling healer would be better than nothing, and losing his temper wouldn’t help. “It doesn’t have to be.”

  Flower spoke, her voice a bare whisper, “Moon doesn’t know.”

  Jade frowned and shook her head slightly, not understanding. Chime looked up at Moon then, blinking, startled. The other warriors stared at him, confused. Stone winced, but didn’t look away from Flower. Frustrated, Moon said, “Know what?”

  Chime said, slowly, “She’s been dying. We’ve known for most of the turn. Since before you came.”

  Stunned, Moon looked around at the others. It was in all their expressions. This hadn’t been a surprise to anyone but him. He sank down on the end of the bed. “How did you know?”

  “When her skin and her scales lost all their color, it’s the sign. It means your time is coming…” Jade said, then hissed in realization. “But you didn’t know that.”

  Moon couldn’t answer. Of course he hadn’t known. Before Indigo Cloud, all the Raksura he had known had died by being torn apart by Tath, not from old age.

  Nobody else said anything, not even River or Drift, as if the subject was too sensitive. Chime twitched restlessly, folded his arms. He said, “She should have died at home.”

  Stone made a softly derisive sound. “If she hadn’t come with us, we wouldn’t have a home.”

  In a dry rasp, still without opening her eyes, Flower added, “And don’t you forget it. Now, each of you come and talk to me.”

  Everyone took turns to sit by Flower and speak to her one last time. When Stone prodded Moon to take his turn, he held her hand, the skin and bones as dry and delicate as old parchment. She said, “Don’t give up. Promise me you won’t give up on us.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was having an augury, or if she had just noticed his uncertainty, or both. He said automatically, “I promise.”

  It didn’t take long after that, as if she had only been holding on long enough to say goodbye. Vine left, to go back to guarding the first floor. Moon and the others stayed, as Flower’s breathing grew softer and slower and more shallow, until finally, it stopped altogether.

  Moon turned away, went blindly through the common room, out into the corridor. He couldn’t watch the others’ grief; it felt private. They had known Flower all their lives, she had held them when they were fledglings. In Stone’s case, he must have watched her grow up. Moon’s feelings couldn’t compare to that.

  When he walked into the exhibit hall, he saw Negal and Esom at the bottom of the stairs with three other groundlings from their crew. Esom looked bleary and half-awake, as if he had been dragged out to talk to the dangerous Raksura when he would rather be sleeping. He called, “Moon, what’s going on? Is there a plan yet for how we’re going to—”

  “Flower died,” Moon said.

  Taken aback, Esom stared. “Oh. I’m— I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she was injured.”

  Moon shook his head; he couldn’t explain now. “Just give us a little time.” Without waiting for an answer, he shifted and leapt up to the gallery, ignoring the startled exclamations from the other groundlings.

  He paced the hall there, past the decaying Tath and the other creatures, half-listening as Esom persuaded Negal and the others to go back upstairs to wait. It was hard to believe that it had really happened, that Flower was really gone. He had never seen anyone die from old age before. It had been so quiet.

  Moon ended up standing in the cubby with the dea
d sea kingdom woman. He wondered what would happen to her when someone else took over the tower, what they would do with her body, if there were any other imprisoned spirits here like the waterling, or if Ardan’s death had released them. After a time he heard movement and looked up to see Jade, moving slowly down the hall, looking at Ardan’s collection. She was in her Arbora form, her spines flattened in dejection.

  When she reached the cubby, he shifted back to groundling, and said, “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, just…” Jade rubbed her temple and frowned down at the sealing’s body. “I have to get used to the idea that she’s gone.” She looked up at him, wincing apologetically. “Moon, I’m sorry. I never thought that you didn’t know.”

  He shook his head. He didn’t want her to apologize to him for something that wasn’t anyone’s fault. “She didn’t tell me.” Moon had asked Flower if Raksura were born live or in eggs; she had to have realized he didn’t know how they died of old age, either.

  “Maybe she wanted someone to talk to who didn’t know.” Jade touched a curl of the sealing’s hair, then drew her hand back, as if she had just realized it was a real body and not a very realistic statue. “When the change first happens to someone, it’s a shock. After a while, you get used to it. No one talks about it, but you don’t forget.”

  No one had talked about it at Emerald Twilight, but they had seen Flower and surely realized she was dying. Moon wondered if that was why Ice had been inclined to let the mentors help them, for Flower’s sake. Ice, he thought suddenly. Her scales are nearly white. Queens lived longer than Arbora, but she must be nearing the end of her life. He wondered who would replace her, if it would be Tempest or someone else, if Shadow would retain his influence or be just another older consort. He would have to ask Jade and Stone. Their alliance with Emerald Twilight might be even more tenuous than it had seemed. Worry about that later, he told himself. We have to get back home first.

  Moon suddenly didn’t want to stand here with the dead any more. He took Jade’s wrist, absently rubbed his thumb over the softer scales on the back of her hand. “We need to talk to Negal about their ship, how we can get to it.”

  Jade took a deep breath. “You’re right. We’ll do that now.”

   They went back to the servants’ common room. Balm, Chime, and Stone were still in the bedchamber with Flower, but the others sat around on the floor and the couches. Everyone looked weary and sad. Rift was back against the far wall, separated from the others, still wary. Floret made an effort to perk up, and said, “What are we doing now?”

  “We’re going to get off this damn leviathan.” Jade settled on one of the cushioned benches and pulled Moon down next to her. She told Song, “Go find the groundlings. Ask them to come here.”

  Song hurried away, and a short time later they heard the groundlings in the corridor. Drift shifted to Raksura. River hissed at him before Jade or Moon could, and Drift immediately shifted back. He said, “Sorry, I was startled.” He actually sounded sorry. Moon suspected the good behavior was only going to last until the shock over Flower’s death faded.

  Song came in, followed by Esom, Karsis, Negal, and Orlis, then one of the men who had been imprisoned in the tower. He was about Negal’s size, but his brown skin was more lined around the eyes, his hair more sprinkled with gray. Orlis smelled of nervous fear, and the new man looked as grim as if he was already resigned to some kind of betrayal. His expression tightened even more when he saw Rift.

  Karsis stepped forward, cleared her throat, and said, “I believe you don’t know our leader, Negal, our second assistant deviser Orlis, and Captain Damison. This is Jade, sister queen of the Indigo Cloud Court, and her consort Moon.”

  Moon caught Song giving Karsis a slight nod of approval. Taking her diplomatic duties as a female warrior seriously, she must have quickly informed Karsis of the proper way to greet Jade.

  Negal inclined his head politely. “I’m sorry to have to make your acquaintance under such unpleasant circumstances. And I wish to apologize to you for our part in the theft of your property. Our assistance to Magister Ardan was involuntary, but I know it has put your court in a dangerous position.”

  It was the right thing to say. Moon could feel Jade’s tension uncoiling. She said, “I’m willing to believe that. Karsis and Esom have said that you want an alliance with us, that together we can use your flying ship to escape this place. Do they speak for you?”

  Negal glanced at Esom and Karsis, and smiled slightly. “In this case, yes.” Song pushed a couple of stools forward and indicated that the groundlings should sit down. Negal and the others moved to take seats, but Captain Damison said, “What about him? Rift.”

  Behind them, Rift stirred, started to stand. Moon turned his head enough to pin him with a look. Rift froze, and sunk back to the floor. Jade didn’t even bother to flick a spine in Rift’s direction. Her eyes on Damison, she said, “He isn’t your concern.”

  “That problem appears to be sorted,” Esom said to Damison. He pushed a stool at him and said pointedly, “Now sit down.”

  Damison hesitated, still watching Rift with deadly intensity. Then Stone came out of the back room. He stopped, glanced over the groundlings noncommittally, then came around to sit on the floor near Jade’s feet. He said, in Raksuran, “Chime is taking it hard.”

  Moon started to get up. Jade caught his arm and gently stopped him. “Balm is with him.”

  Moon settled back, reluctantly. Esom looked from Stone to Jade. “Is Chime all right?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. Chime’s name would have been the only word he could understand in the Raksuran exchange.

  Karsis added, “If he’s injured, perhaps I could help?”

  Jade shook her head. “He was close to Flower; she taught him, when he was a mentor.”

  “Oh, I see. Of course,” Esom said, though it was clear he didn’t really understand, except that Chime had been Flower’s student. Esom sat back, but the moment seemed to ease the tension. Damison glanced around uncomfortably, then finally took a seat.

  Negal leaned forward and clasped his hands on his knee. “As you proposed, the best way to escape this city is on our ship, the Klodifore. If we cooperate, we should be able to reach the harbor and secure it. As long as the city authorities don’t realize that we’re working together, they shouldn’t suspect that retrieving the ship is our goal.” He spread his hands. “Then we can take you east, all the way to the forest coast if need be, before we head back to our own home.”

  Jade asked, “Can you launch the ship while the leviathan is still moving?”

  Esom exchanged a look with Orlis. “It won’t be easy, but I’m certainly willing to try.”

  “If I never see this creature again it will be too soon,” Orlis agreed. “I’ll risk anything to get off it.”

  Then Root ducked into the doorway, so abruptly the groundlings flinched. He said, “A groundling banged on the outside door and said Magister Lethen wants to talk!”

  Jade frowned and asked Moon, “Do you know who that is?”

  “Yes.” He pushed himself upright. “He was outside the mortuary with the other magisters. I don’t think he and Ardan were friends.”

  “They weren’t,” Negal said, frowning. “They were bitter rivals.”

  Jade tapped her claws on the couch cushion, thinking. “How strong is his magic?”

  “He certainly couldn’t seem to do anything about Ardan,” Negal told her. “I think he would have if he could.” He hesitated. “Will you speak to him?”

  Jade nodded reluctantly. “We’d better. Just to stall him, if nothing else.” She told Negal, “You come to the hall and listen, but don’t let him see you.”

  

  Out in the exhibit hall, Jade had Negal stand just out of sight to one side of the entrance passage, so he could listen to the conversation. Stone stood just out of sight to the other side, in case it wasn’t a conversation that Lethen had in mind. Vine, Floret, River, and Drift were also clinging to t
he wall above the passage. The others, with Negal’s crew, were poised to retreat into the underground if they had to.

  Jade put her hand on the door bar and said, “Ready?”

  “Probably,” Moon told her. If Lethen had magic like Ardan’s, all their preparations meant nothing. But if Lethen had magic like Ardan’s, Moon was betting he wouldn’t have had to use the firepowder to get into the mortuary.

  Jade lifted the bar and pulled the door open.

  Lethen stood just outside. He was as Moon remembered him from the evening in the tower: a richly-dressed, ruinously old blue-pearl man. His gaze went to Jade first. He stared at her with guarded curiosity. Then he looked at Moon and frowned, startled. “You. The trader.” His expression turned saturnine. “You’re one of them. Did Ardan know?”

  There was no reason not to admit it now. “Yes.”

  Lethen swore. “The fool.”

  Jade said sharply, “He attacked us. He came to our colony while we were gone and stole from us.”

  “I’m not disputing that.” Lethen folded his gnarled hands over the head of his cane. “He claimed to need artifacts of arcane power to keep the leviathan from sinking. Since we’re all still alive, I assume that wasn’t true.”

  Moon didn’t see any reason not to admit that, too. “No. All he needed was the bridle.”

  “Then I’m a fool as well, for I believed him.” Lethen eyed them a moment. “Do you know where this creature is taking us?”

  “No.”

  Lethen said, “I do. We’re headed northeast, toward Emriat-terrene.”

  Jade flicked a look at Moon. He said, “It’s going home.” That was the place in the story Rith had told them, the home of the sorcerers who had originally built the city atop the leviathan.

  “A logical assumption,” Lethen admitted. “It’s returning to its original position.” He added, “I’m a very old man. Unlike Ardan, I have all the wealth and temporal power I’m likely to ever need, and I have no wish to live on something that moves, either at someone’s direction or its own random whim.”